


The Hunter

by jesuisbree



Category: Supernatural
Genre: F/M, Ghosts, Hunters & Hunting
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-03-19
Updated: 2017-04-15
Packaged: 2018-10-07 19:56:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,808
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10368261
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jesuisbree/pseuds/jesuisbree
Summary: What was once a beautiful, blonde demon crumpled to the ground and the brothers stared at it for a moment, Dean with the bloody knife in his hand. Both brothers looked up to the waitress behind the bar, their mouths dropped open and their eyes slightly wider than usual. The waitress merely stood there, her fingers splayed on the bar and her palms pressed flat against the cool wood. Her eyes flickered between the two of them, but she looked a little less surprised than they expected her to look. Sam and Dean shot glances to each other, a multitude of thoughts behind their eyes before Sam turned away to pack up the laptop and Dean swiped the blood off of his blade. It was only a second that they had their eyes off of the girl, but when they looked back up she was gone and the bar was completely empty spare the corpse at their feet.“Aw, damn it,” Dean grumbled, frowning a bit, “we’ve got a body to get rid of and whoever that chick was is gone.”“Maybe it’s for the best that she is. She’s probably anotherhunter,” Sam said, shrugging a bit as he slung the laptop bag over his shoulder and let out a heavy sigh. “I’ll go put this up and help you get rid of Miss. Blonde here.”





	1. Intro

It was a typical night for the Winchester brothers. Well, as typical as they come. They found themselves in some dark corner of some smoky town bar, looking over newspaper articles and searching online. Well, the youngest Winchester brother was doing the researching. The older one was busy making eyes at every relatively attractive woman that walked by. They noticed the wicked twinkle in his eyes and the half-grin on his lips; some of them merely rolled their eyes at him and scoffed, but the majority of them returned the grin and gave him a small “hey” or “hi” as they strolled past him with an added swing to their hips. This would cause the younger one to roll his eyes and give his older brother a poignant look. To which the older brother would shrug, look at the younger one like he was crazy, and take a sip of his frosted mug of beer.

Unbeknownst to them, there was a bartender watching them from across the room. They were just about to close up, so the girl was cutting lemons to make sure they were fully stocked for the next day. Of course, this meant that the people in the bar were dwindling to just a few. The loud roar that the bar once was filled with was now a quiet murmur and the sound of the knife hitting the cutting board was one of the few sounds in the room. The girl had bright blue eyes, rimmed heavily by eyeliner and she had thick bangs that framed those observing eyes of hers. Her hair was long and wavy; the shade a medium, sandy brown color. No one had noticed her behind the lacquered surface of the bar, which was exactly what the girl preferred. Most places she went, her model-type looks and her astounding height of 5’11” made it hard for her to pass by without a raised eyebrow or a greasy grin shot in her direction.

“This chick has been eyeing me for an hour now, Sammy,” the older Winchester said, resting his arm on the back of his chair as his eyes remained locked on a pretty blonde across the room. The crooked grin was still in place and hope was lighting up those green eyes of his.

“Then why don’t you go and talk to her, Dean,” Sam sighed, looking up from his laptop to give his older brother a less-than-enthusiastic look. “Unless you’ve had a sudden change of personality and actually want to help me research…”

“No, no,” Dean quickly cut in as his brother let his voice drop off, “that’s alright. And besides, I don’t have to go talk to her because Miss. Blondie is coming over here to talk.” He gave Sam a smug little smile before licking his lips and looking up to the voluptuous blonde that was now leaning over the table to give Dean an eyeful of her cleavage baring top.

“Hey there,” she said in a sweet voice, looking down at him with an equally sweet smile. Dean grinned crookedly, pulling his mug away from his lips as he swallowed the last gulp of beer he took.

“Hey there yourself,” he repeated in that gruff voice of his, licking his lips again as he watched the woman closely.

“You two aren’t from around here, huh?” She asked, tilting her head to the side as gave Dean a little chuckle.

“Is it that obvious?” Dean replied, letting out a soft laugh as the clasped his hands around the not-so-frosty mug before him. “We’re from out of town, yeah,” he said, raising his brows a bit. He never gave away too much too quickly, even if this woman was just too hot for her own good in Dean’s eyes.

“What brings you to the local watering hole?” She asked, her eyes darting between the two men before focusing once more on Dean.

“What doesn’t bring us here?” Dean asked, causing Sam to give a dramatic roll of his eyes and shook his head a bit before plucking away at the keyboard of his laptop. The blonde gave a soft laugh and flipped her hair over her shoulder before leaning closer to Dean. The dazzling smile the girl wore slowly dropped and she blinked a few times, her eyes locked on the eldest Winchester.

“I’m going to ask you again; what brings you here?” She asked in a low, no-nonsense kind of tone, blinking once and her eyes flooded with a black, inky color. She blinked again at her baby blues were right back in place. There was a certain stiffness that hung in the air and the waitress cutting the lemons abruptly stopped, eyes focused on the only three customers in the bar. Before there was a flurry of action from the men, the waitress cutting the lemons spun the knife around in her fingers. She’d been cutting lemons earlier and knew that it was a sharp enough blade. In one swift movement, she tossed the knife toward the blonde’s back, having it lodge just beside her spine.

The demon gasped softly, eyes swooping around the room to find the reason there was a knife stuck in her back, and it gave the brothers just enough time to do their job. Dean pulled a special sort of blade from his pocket and thrust it into the demon’s side. There was a small display of flashes from within the demon; something sort of electrical looking. What was once a beautiful, blonde demon crumpled to the ground and the brothers stared at it for a moment, Dean with the bloody knife in his hand. Both brothers looked up to the waitress behind the bar, their mouths dropped open and their eyes slightly wider than usual. The waitress merely stood there, her fingers splayed on the bar and her palms pressed flat against the cool wood. Her eyes flickered between the two of them, but she looked a little less surprised than they expected her to look. Sam and Dean shot glances to each other, a multitude of thoughts behind their eyes before Sam turned away to pack up the laptop and Dean swiped the blood off of his blade. It was only a second that they had their eyes off of the girl, but when they looked back up she was gone and the bar was completely empty spare the corpse at their feet.

“Aw, damn it,” Dean grumbled, frowning a bit, “we’ve got a body to get rid of and whoever that chick was is gone.”

“Maybe it’s for the best that she is. She’s probably another hunter,” Sam said, shrugging a bit as he slung the laptop bag over his shoulder and let out a heavy sigh. “I’ll go put this up and help you get rid of Miss. Blonde here.”

__________________________________________________________________________________

The girl that had been bartending took long strides to get as far away from the bar as she could before the two brothers decided to emerge from within it. She had been watching them all night and knew exactly who they were. All they spelled was trouble for her and she was going to try and avoid that as much as possible. Granted, she couldn’t really avoid it in her line of work, but those two brothers would just supply more than she’d want to deal with. This case was supposed to be quick and easy, but if the Winchesters were there, it was undoubtedly bound to become something far more complicated.

She yanked the half apron she had tied around her waist off and threw it to the side, the wind picking it up and causing it to tumble through the gravel parking lot. Her boot-clad feet carried her to the sleek, black 1973 Mustang at the back of the parking lot as her hand dove into the back pocket of her jeans to retrieve the key to it. In a flash, she was unlocking the car and slipping into the driver’s seat. Cranking up the engine, she quickly reversed out of the spot and sped out of the parking lot, kicking up dust and dirt until she hit the road. Just before she turned the curve that would drive the bar from her line of sight, she saw two figures gazing after her car and she knew they wouldn’t be able to read her license plates from such a distance.

Once she was confident she could get down the road without the two of them following her, her hand dove for her cellphone in the passenger seat and, without looking, punched in a number she knew all-too well. Holding the phone up to her ear and expertly maneuvering around the curves with the other hand, the phone only produced two ring-backs before the gruff voice on the other end answered, per usual.

Before the man had a chance to say anymore, the girl spoke, trying to keep herself from yelling into the phone, “Bobby Singer, you mind telling me what you had going on in that thick skull of yours when you sent the Winchester’s on a case that was supposed to be mine?” There was a groan from the man, the hiss of a beer can opening, and a long pause on the other end. “You know they just complicate nearly every case and I need very little complications from humans when it comes to hunting.”

“You can’t always get what you want, sweetheart,” the man finally replied, a certain amount of bitterness in his tone. “You’re not entitled to one case more than another hunter and you’ve been cooped up in Montana for Christ knows how long trying to figure it out.” The girl scoffed and took a hairpin turn at far too high a speed to be considered remotely safe. Thankfully, she’d been driving cars like she stole them since she got her license and could easily keep a car going well over the speed limit on the road.

“I’ve been incognito and lying low until I can pinpoint what exactly is going on here,” she defended, rolling her eyes before returning them to the dark road ahead of her. Bobby gave a heavy sigh and the girl could almost see him running a worn hand down his face.

“How exactly did you find the two of them…or they found you?” He asked finally.

“I’ve been bartending at the only bar in this God forsaken town and they just so happened to stroll in to research and make eyes at the local women,” she murmured sourly, continuing on toward the hotel she was staying at while she was on the case. “It’s a small town, Bobby, you know that.” He could almost hear the older man struggling to get the words from his brain and out of his mouth. “Look. I’ve got this case covered. So, whatever you have to do or say to get those two out of town, do it,” she told him sharply, abruptly hanging up the phone and slinging it into the seat beside her.

Pulling into the parking lot of the hotel, she parked right in front of her room, making sure that she parked within the lines to be sure that none of the other people visiting the hotel would dint or scratch the doors. She cut off the engine and reached into the backseat, grabbing her bags, and hauling them from the car after snatching up her phone from the passenger seat. Locking up once she’d shut the door, she marched toward room 10 and pulled the key out from the pocket on the end of her duffle. A frown curled her lips once she entered the room, dropping her bags just beside the door and closing and locking it behind her. She slid the chain into the lock and marched over to the large window, glancing through the small crack she’d left. Blowing out a heavy sigh that ruffled her bangs, she heard the low rumble of an engine before she spotted a black Impala pulling into the parking lot and parking a few spots down from her car.

“Shit,” she breathed as she watched Sam and Dean Winchester exit the car, grab their bags, and start for the hotel office to secure themselves a room for the night. It was going to be harder to throw them off than she thought.


	2. Ride

The next morning the girl woke up to a loud knocking at her door. She peeked open her eyes for a moment to see that the sun was streaming in beneath the curtains of her hotel room. A soft groan left her as her hand dove under the pillow beside her, grabbing the hunting knife she always kept beside her when she was sleeping or on her person when she wasn’t, and started toward the door. She was just in a tank top, no bra underneath it, and a pair of underwear. Normally, she left her clothes on to sleep, but she couldn’t get comfortable with them on and she prized what few hours of sleep she managed to get more than her modesty.

She checked through the peephole of the door and didn’t recognize the person on the other side and just barely opened the door, standing behind it with the knife held tightly in her hand. She kept the chain on the door, even though she knew it wouldn’t be much of a challenge for any supernatural creature to burst through the door, but it’d spare her a few moments to react.

“Housekeeping,” the woman on the other side of the door chirped. She was a portly sort of woman, dressed in a grey cotton dress and white apron. She had a mess of dark brown curled on her head that had been swept back from her face with a white headband. Her skin was an olive color and she was at least a half foot shorter than the girl. The girl eyed her through the crack, taking her in slowly before sighing softly and shaking her head a bit.

“Uh, no thanks,” she said softly and groggily, managing the first polite smile she had in days for the woman, “I’m…not properly dressed at the moment, so cleaning my room isn’t necessary.” The smile she wore fell slowly as the woman continued to grin up at her and smile, like she didn’t quite comprehend she was being turned down. There were a few moments of tense silence between the two of them and the girl imperceptibly curled her fingers a touch tighter around her knife. With a heavy sigh, the woman merely continued to watch the girl before her smile slowly fell. Her eyes suddenly flooded with an inky black color and the girl nearly rolled her eyes. This was not how she wanted to start her morning and definitely not how she wanted to get woken up.

“I said, ‘housekeeping’ bitch,” the woman growled before lifting her foot and kicking down the door. The girl managed to jump back just in time, keeping deftly on her feet as she backpedaled into the room. Taking a defensive stance, the girl kept her bright blue eyes on the demon advancing into the room. “I was at the bar before you stabbed my friend in the back and handed her over to the Winchester’s. Not to mention all the other demons you’ve sent packing from this town. You’ve left me all on my lonesome.”

“Are you expecting an apology? Sympathy?” The girl replied bluntly, upper lip curling slightly with disdain. The demon merely smiled sarcastically, eyeing the hunter before her.

“No, just revenge,” the demon replied sweetly and it was then that the girl decided they’d spent enough time chatting and less time getting an exorcism underway. With the flick of the demon’s wrist, the girl was sent flying back through the room and pinned back against the wall, a few of the charm necklaces she wore smacking hard against her chest as the demon slowly stalked towards her. The girl kept her eyes on the monster, though she knew at any moment the spell on her would be broken and she’d be free to exorcise the bitch. The demon only got a few paces forward in before the girl slid from the wall and landed with an agile grace on her feel, confident smirk on her features.

“What the hell?” The demon questioned before glancing down at the threadbare rug beneath her feet that seemed to only space three feet wide and four feet long. It had been meticulously placed in front of the bed, and upon further inspection, seemed to clash with the 1970’s décor of the hotel room. The hunter was the one stalking forward now, a smug expression curling her features. Recognition dawned on the demon’s face and she let out a heavy sigh, eyes darted back up to the girl.

“Portable devil’s trap; clever, huh?” The hunter boasted as the casually observed the hunting knife in her hand. “Too bad you won’t be sticking around long enough for you to blab to your—” At that moment, the girl’s voice died off as two men appeared in the busted down door. She gave a soft groan as her eyes darted between the two of them, knowing they were going to try and get in the middle of this as the tall men took a glance between the woman standing on the oriental rug and the barely dressed girl. “I’ve got this,” she barked, “she’s trapped. I’m about to exorcise her. Then I’ll get rid of the body if need be.”

The girl began to quickly recite exorcism rites, paying no mind to the vitriolic words pouring from the demon's mouth when she wasn't screaming and writhing in pain. Finally, the girl got out the last words and the demon threw her head back, letting out a bloodcurdling scream as jet-black smoke spewed from her mouth and out the open door. The brother’s ducked to avoid the smoke before slowly righting themselves as the woman’s body dropped like a stone to the floor. The girl eyed her for a moment before heaving a sigh, knowing she was going to have to deal with a body to get rid of. Unless she dumped it on the two idiots still standing in her doorway, that was she’d get a jumpstart on getting away from the two of them. Silence settled in the room for a few moments before the girl spoke once more.

“Look, we don’t need to go through the whole ‘I’m what’s-his-face and dumb-shit’ deal,” she told them bluntly, bright blue eyes darting between the two of them, causing them to both look a bit affronted at how she was speaking to them. “I know you’re the Goddamn Winchesters and that Bobby Singer has probably dialed you and told you that I was here and lacking on getting the case closed,” she continued, tossing the hunting knife she held onto the bed and crossing her arms over her chest. “Which I just did, so you can leave,” she finished.

“Hostile much?” The one by the name of Dean quipped. The girl merely raised a brow, clearly unfazed by his once over. She took one look into those green eyes of his and knew that he was probably going to be the perverted asshole she heard him to be. Sam, the one who towered over nearly everything living in sight, regarded the girl carefully, but managed to keep his eyes on her face, thankfully. It’d spare the girl from giving them both a tongue-lashing.

“You were the one at the bar last night,” he finally said, brows pulled low over his eyes. “The one who tossed that knife into the demon’s back.” The girl rolled her eyes dramatically before shooting a dark look in his direction.

“How observant of you,” she dead-panned before glancing between the two of them with a certain amount of acidity in her stare, “it’d be great if you two could get lost. I need to get dressed and deal with her before someone walks in front of the open door you two dingbats are standing in front of.” The brothers shot a look to each other, as if silently consulting with each other before stepping into the room and lifting the door back into the doorframe. “Damn it,” the girl mumbled under her breath, running a hand over her tired face.

“No, there’s no need to get dressed really. I’m sure I’ll— ” Dean started with a smirk on his lips, but the girl was shooting him a look that could have killed and the expression slowly fell.

“If you prize your balls, you’ll shut up now,” she growled, glowering over at him. Dean merely held his hands up in surrender, quickly averting his eyes from the girl. There were a few moments of silence between the three of them before Sam drew in a deep breath of air.

“Bobby told us who you are,” Sam continued, his observing blue-green eyes locked on her face.

“Great,” the girl grumbled as she strode over to one of her duffels, hastily pulling a pair of jeans on so she at least didn’t feel as naked and exposed as before. “Before you two start asking questions; no, I haven’t the slightest clue where it is.” She grabbed a large sweater and tugged it over her head, pushing the sleeves up to her elbows.

“Where what is?” Dean asked, cutting his eyes at her as he walked over to a couch in the room and plopped down onto it. The girl scoffed loudly and shot him a disapproving look.

“Don’t play dumb, Dean,” she told him, “if Bobby told you who I am, then you’re going to ask me what ever other fucking hunter has asked me.”

“Noora,” Sam said softly, obviously trying to go by a gentler approach than his brother, “we only want to know if you can help us with any notes your great-great-grandfather left behind.” Noora rolled her eyes and dragged her fingers through her hair, shaking her head slowly as she looked down at the bag. Leave it to Bobby to spill the beans about who she was.

“I never knew Samuel Colt personally, so I haven’t a clue how the man got the Colt to work or where it is. Last I heard, you two numbskulls had it, then let a grade-A money-grabber steal it from you,” she said, tugging on socks and a pair of boots. As good as Bobby was for blabbing to the brothers about her, Bobby had always helped her keep tabs on them. Mainly because he knew that if it came down to his or another hunter’s life, she’d do nearly anything to save it. Noora hoped the longer she kept them talking while she dressed herself, the more she could distract them and she could get away without having to deal with a body. So what if she was lazy, she just wanted to get away from them before they tried to tag-team the next case with her or question her more about her ancestor.

“Well, if you hear where it is—” Dean started.

“Yeah, yeah, give Bobby a call because you two need it to shoot the devil,” she murmured, rolling her eyes as she’d heard it a million times. She looped her back over her shoulder before looking over the brothers. They looked a bit surprised that she knew about their plan and it drew a ghost of a smile to her lips. When they glanced at each other, Noora took the time to bend over and pull the rug out from underneath the body of the woman and rolled it up. The bright paint that marked the devil’s trap on the underside was visible and the brothers noted how clever an idea that was. She strode toward the door and it then became apparent to them that she had no plans of getting rid of the body.

“Hey wait,” Dean called after her, but she was already pulling down the door and stepping through it. Both brothers shot up and strode over to the door, but Noora was already in her car and turning over the engine. As she was pulling out of the parking lot, Dean was yelling after her and Sam merely stood dumbstruck in the doorway as the black Mustang tore out of the parking lot. “Ah, damn it,” Dean muttered, glaring at the car as it traveled down the road and out of sight. Sam let out a heavy sigh and pushed his hair back off his face before glancing back into the room.

“Guess we better clean the room up,” he murmured, to which Dean turned and shot him a look before disappearing within the room.

__________________________________________________________________________________

As Noora sped off from the hotel and in no particular direction, not finding another case to move onto yet, she tried to keep her thoughts as far from those blasted Winchester brothers. She thought that if circumstances had been any different, she might’ve liked working with them. They did handle some pretty serious cases in a way, but one way or another, one or both of them managed to get themselves into a serious amount of trouble before it was over with. Bobby told her about how Dean sold his soul for his brother, how Sam once had psychic powers, how they both had an angel following them around, how Sam been tricked by a demon by the name Ruby into unleashing Lucifer onto the masses, and how they were now struggling to retrieve the Colt pistol to shoot the bastard. Noora didn’t need to be thrust into that sort of environment in the least. She had enough problems of her own to deal with.

Her parents, unlike most hunters in the business, hadn’t had the slightest clue about what went bump in the night and the beasts that walked the Earth. Her mom was a Swedish immigrant and her father was a cattle rancher down in Waco, Texas. She supposed the hunter gene died out with Samuel Colt because she couldn’t find a hunter in the family since him. It was when she was in high school when she began to become more and more obsessed with the supernatural beings that painted the pages of storybooks and urban legends with a morose sort of color, though nothing really ever startled her when she was a child. She was fascinated with that odd creak of the floorboards or the rattling in the closet and she spent every moment she had outside and inside of school researching them. It wasn’t until a few kids in her high school had died suspiciously within the same week that she started her journey to becoming the hunter she was today.

Noora had investigated their deaths secretly, dodging the police to find out as much as she could. Rumor had it the kids had played with an Ouija board the night before the week preceding their untimely deaths and Noora knew that playing with one of those was practically like opening up a portal unless you knew how to properly use one. Even Noora was wary of using them now and she was a pretty decent hunter by most standards. She figured if ghosts wanted to talk to her, they’d find her and make themselves known.

It was when she was sneaking through one of the victims’ houses that she ran into a hunter by the name of John Winchester, going by John McGillicutty at the time. However, he took one look at the girl and tried to shoo her away. Instead of becoming discouraged—because Noora was not going to let someone boss her around, no matter how intimidating they tried to be—she followed him back to the hotel he and his kids were staying at. She knew he was not a FBI agent like he said, she just didn’t know what he was. One of the boys had gotten a glimpse of her through the window, she was sure, but she couldn’t see who, exactly. Before they raised the alarm, she fell back for the time being before she could figure out who John was.

The next day, she ran into John again and she made him realize that she was not going to back down by any means. The two of them worked together to help send the vengeful spirit they’d summoned through the board back to where it came from. It was John Winchester, as she later found out, who had truly introduced her into the world of hunting. Reluctantly, he handed Bobby Singer’s number over to her, knowing that since she’d helped him on a case, she’d be a possible target for other things down the road. She was sure only Bobby knew that John had introduced her to hunting and that she bypassed her parent’s wishes for her to go to college for life on the road as a hunter under the rough-and-tumble tutelage of Bobby Singer.

__________________________________________________________________________________

Dean glanced around the room Noora had been staying in, brow pulled low over his bright green eyes as he studied the state of disarray the room had been left it. The bed was a mess and looked as though it hadn’t been made in a long time. There were a few little items she left in the bathroom that could easily be replaced; a hairbrush, toothbrush, small toiletries. Clearly, she didn’t mind spending a bit to get rid of them and the body that was now reduced to cinders in a clearing. Thankfully, with how vast Montana is, he doubted that anyone would find the spot when the ashes still remained there. He stepped from the bathroom before going over to the closet and pulling open the doors. A frown curled his lips as he noticed spider webs of yellow, red, and green yarn held in place by corresponding push pins.

It reminded him of the way his dad had kept track of cases, spare the fact that it seemed every piece of paper, photograph, or newsprint had been ripped right from underneath the pins that kept them in place. It was like she hastily plucked everything down and stowed it away, as if she knew that she would be leaving town soon. A soft hum left him as he reached up and absently strummed at a red yarn, wondering if she liked the color or if they had some sort of meaning to her. Despite the way she left the room, it appeared that she had a rather interesting way of organizing cases.

“The Impala’s all packed, Dean,” Sam spoke from the door as he entered the room, causing the older hunter to turn to him and give a small nod. Sam stepped over to the closet and lifted his brows slightly, eyeing the wall. “Cases?” He questioned, following the lines of yarn.

“Apparently,” Dean replied through a sigh, “but everything was gone before we got here.” His eyes drifted along the wall once more before his eyes caught sight of a leather bound book at the bottom of the closet. Crouching down, he eyed the cover, which had a devil’s trap embossed into the brown leather, and beneath that the name ‘Colt’. He took the book and undid the knot of suede straps that kept the book shut, pulling it open. When his eyes fell across the first date in the book, ‘March 12, 1845’, a soft huff of air left him. “I’ll be damned,” he murmured.

“Is that-” Sam started, but Dean finished.

“Samuel Colt’s journal…and an early one at that.” He thumbed through the pages for a moment before shutting the book. “We can look through it later. We should probably get on the road,” he murmured, tying a knot back around the book and handing it over to Sam. Dean then stood, shooting one more glance around the room before leaving it and starting toward the Impala. He pulled open the door once he reached it and lowered himself into the driver’s seat as he watched Sam pull the door back into place. It was the hotel’s problem now, not theirs. At least they kindly removed the body for them and got rid of it so they wouldn’t have police swarming the place.

Sam soon was in the passenger seat of the car and shutting the door behind him, pulling open the old journal and beginning to look through it as Dean pulled away from the hotel and out of the parking lot. The car remained quiet for quite some time before one of them made any inclination to talk. Dean was far too gone in his own thoughts and Sam was far too absorbed in the book. A soft hum left him as his brow furrowed slightly, eyes lifting momentarily from the journal. “Do you think she left this behind on purpose?” He asked, glancing out of the windshield before turning to his brother. Dean just frowned a bit and shrugged.

“Not sure. It does seem kind of strange that she’d leave a family heirloom behind,” he said softly, producing another hum from Sam as the younger Winchester delved into Samuel Colt’s journal.

If there was one thing that Dean was sure of, it was that Noora Colt had the same look in her eyes as she did the first time he’d seen her. He vividly remembered that night, what seemed like years ago, seeing her peering from a line of trees beside the hotel they were staying at in Waco, Texas. When the lights of a passing car illuminated her hiding spot, he saw the tall girl standing there, stern expression curling her blemish-free features as her curious, yet hard eyes cut through the night. In the brief second that he saw her, he knew that she was onto them, determined to find answers about everything Dean had already known about for years. He knew that she would hunt down those answers, no matter what.

The moment he’d seen her in the bar, he realized that she was still that same, determined girl, but he knew that it was seriously strange that their paths would cross again, even if Bobby had lead them to her. Certainly, Bobby couldn’t have known Dean had seen her before, could he? At that revelation, Dean became even more curious with the situation and felt that a call to Bobby would be in order the moment they reached their next hotel. He already had enough on his mind as it was; he didn’t need to worry about some girl who just so happened to be related to Colt on top of an impending apocalypse.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ah, here's our first full chapter of this story. Thanks for reading and I hope you enjoy!

**Author's Note:**

> This is another story that was posted on Mibba that I'm transferring over to this website in the hopes that I'll be able to finish it. Thanks for reading and I hope you enjoy! 
> 
> PS. If someone knows of a decent writing-based RP-ing website, especially for Supernatural RPs, please point me in its direction!


End file.
